


Make a Scene

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cressi, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, FC Barcelona, Hotels, Insults, Italy, Juventus Turin, M/M, Real Madrid CF, Spain, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 19:30:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15395820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: Leo's not sure what it is that Cristiano says that really sets him off.It's a lot of little things all hitting him at once. He's already upset, already in denial that Cristiano is moving, and to see Cristiano so nonchalant about it... That casual grin, the gleam in Cristiano's eyes when he speaks about his new adventure...Leo's been on edge ever since the news broke.





	Make a Scene

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yulin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulin/gifts).



> Cristiano to Juventus. It's not the end.

Leo's not sure what it is that Cristiano says that really sets him off.

It's a lot of little things all hitting him at once. He's already upset, already in denial that Cristiano is moving, and to see Cristiano so nonchalant about it... That casual grin, the gleam in Cristiano's eyes when he speaks about his new adventure...

Leo's been on edge ever since the news broke.

But as to what makes him snap? Maybe it's Cristiano extolling the virtues of Italy. Maybe it's him waving a hand and saying that Leo can never understand--that Barcelona will always love Leo like they love Puyol and Xavi and Iniesta--and Cristiano doesn't necessarily have that. Maybe it's when Cristiano is being so dismissive, explaining he's been hearing the jeers and the boos longer than Leo can ever imagine, that he wants to find new fans to love him.

Or maybe it's Cristiano simply telling Leo to relax: that Italy is really not that far from away Spain.

That they'll still see each other.

That it'll be just like it is now.

And Cristiano smiles like it's all fine.

Whatever it is, Leo suddenly can't take it any longer.

All he knows is that the rage is burning through his body, his ears filling with a buzzing as he sits there, getting angrier and angrier. They'd finished dinner ages ago, napkins spread out across the bedspread along with the crumbs from their sandwiches. They hadn't bothered to clean up while talking. And now Leo can feel everything he ate churning in his stomach. There's a rough moment, when Cristiano looks so happy, where he thinks it might all come back up. "You know what?" he finally whispers, hands balling into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms so hard that he's probably drawing blood. 

Their fight had started over something so small, over Leo not wanting to go out after eating because he was tired, over him wanting to stay in and spend as much time with Cristiano as possible before their time was up... Why go out and risk the crowds when they could stay safe inside their own little world, wrapped around each other until the sun came up again?

They'd argued.

And then it had just escalated.

Everything had poured out.

Leo hated Italy, he'd shouted at Cristiano, ignoring the shocked look he received in return. He hated the food, the culture, the fashion. The fucking language. The weather. Whatever he could think of about Italy, he said that he hated it.

His hatred didn't even make *sense*--he loved Italy! He went there frequently on vacation or to visit his nutritionist. He wore Italian designers all the time and thought all of its delicacies were delicious. He knew it was a beautiful place, full of art and music and gorgeous people. Even as he heard the ridiculous things he was saying, he tried to stop, knowing it wasn't true...

But he couldn't stop talking, couldn't stop himself from fighting, from pouring oil on the fire. He hissed that he hated Juventus, hated Italian football, looked down on the league and knew it would never measure up to Spain. With every venomous word he could see Cristiano's anger growing, and still, he couldn't stop.

Leo hated lots of things about Italy. But he especially hated that Cristiano didn't even ask his opinion about going there. And even more than that, he hated that Cristiano didn't even consider the ramifications this would have on their future as a couple.

Eventually, Leo ran out of words.

"Yes?" Cristiano asks harshly, arms crossed, jaw set. It's a look Leo's familiar with--simmering anger barely contained. Despite how he's listened to Leo's tirade, he's obviously not going to let Leo get away with everything. His nostrils are flaring and he's been annoyed since the beginning, ever since Leo had frowned at the mere mention of Juventus.

Like he can't understand why Leo is so upset.

"Go on, what? This should be good," Cristiano spits out, though his tone says he's expecting the opposite. "What else could you possibly have to say that you haven't already said? Anything else that's wrong with me? My choice of team? My new home?" He bares his teeth. "Come on, I *desperately* want to hear it. Since you seem to have an opinion on everything tonight."

Leo feels raw.

He swallows, his words all gone now and only fatigue remaining. His rant is still heavy in the air around him, and shame begins to mix with his misery. He can't take them back, not now, not when he's just made such a fool of himself. It weighs on him and he wants to apologize. 

But God...

He *hurts*.

He tries to suck in his pain and anger, tries to shove it deep down until it's just a dull ache in the middle of his chest. He feels his shields slip into place, knows his face is smoothing out. It's easy to do that, easy with all the practice he's had in front of cameras and interviewers. He relaxes his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. "Never mind then," he says, licking his lips. The buzzing is getting louder in his ears. "If that's what you really think, never mind," he says, knowing he's not making much sense now either.

Leo can let it go, pretend he's fine.

This is the end. He realizes that now.

He won't fight for it anymore--not when Cristiano so clearly wants to go.

And he will learn what it's like to live without Cristiano again.

He remembers being alone, he's sure he can go back to that.

Cristiano curses under his breath. "You always fucking do this," he says, throwing his arms up, nearly smacking the headboard. "What the fuck is that face? Who do you think you're talking to? Why do you always have to be the good one, the one who bites his tongue and refuses to make a scene... Fuck that! Go on! Show some goddamn emotion for once in your life!"

Leo's heart throbs. "You think I can't make a scene?" he says thickly, choking back a sob. "Fuck you," he says, blood boiling, barely holding back his tears. He shoves the crinkled sandwich wrapper off his lap, and vaults over the side of the bed.

Then he turns on his heel and storms out, making a dramatic exit for the first time in his miserable life. He ignores whatever Cristiano is saying behind him, and instead, yanks open the hotel room door. He's barely even thinking as he pulls hard on the door so that he can slam it behind him as loud as he can. He can already hear the cracking noise he wants the door to make as it slams closed.

Except...

At the last second, he remembers the tired looking mother and the baby in the next room over, and he catches the door before it can slam. He lets it fall shut with a gentle click, gritting his teeth as he realizes he's failed entirely at making a scene.

Leo walks down the hall unsteadily, but only makes it a few feet before he slumps down against the wall. The carpet is plush under his feet, but it gives him no comfort. Not with what he's just done, or with what he's just said. The dim lights in the corridor reflect off his watch, showing that it's the middle of the night. He doesn't know how long he and Cristiano had argued, how long they'd fought over nothing.

Too long.

Too much time wasted.

He buries his head in his hands, shoulder shaking as the tears finally fall.

But Leo's not there long before he hears the door click open and the soft pads of footsteps behind him. Cristiano sighs, sinking to his knees behind him. "You didn't slam the door," he says, wrapping his arms around Leo's body. "What kind of scene was that?" He doesn't sound angry anymore.

Just tired.

Like Leo.

"The baby," Leo says, knowing Cristiano will remember the cute little girl who had babbled at them in the hallway earlier. He closes his eyes, sniffling, trying to calm down. Cristiano's body is warm behind him, so familiar, so comforting, and he leans into his chest, tears starting to slow. "I almost did it," he adds.

It's not really what he wants to say.

Cristiano hums, kissing the top of Leo's head. "I know, sweetheart," he says, resting his lips on Leo's soft hair. After a moment he turns Leo's face toward his, wiping away a few stray tears. When Leo blinks at him, all wet lashes and quivering lips, Cristiano leans in to kiss him. "I'm sorry," he says, once he's pulled back.

Leo takes a shuddering breath, closing his eyes again as he fights for control. "No, I'm sorry. The things I said--" He breaks off, hiccuping.

Cristiano wipes Leo's face again, kissing him on his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his eyelids. "I know. I understand. I'm still sorry," he whispers, dropping a kiss onto the corner of Leo's mouth, repeating himself as he moves to the other side. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He smooths his thumb over Leo's lips and then kisses him on the forehead. "Come back?" he mumbles against Leo's skin. "I don't have much more time... but I want to spend it with you. Will you stay?"

Leo turns in Cristiano's arms, clutching the other man. "Yes," he breathes, fingers pulling at Cristiano's shirt. "Yes."

It's not the end.


End file.
